They tell ye it’ll aw come good one day. Whit day is that then pal, whit day is it. ‘Cos the last time ah looked it hasnae come good at aw – barrin a couple ae chances tae humiliate they monkeys fae Gorgie, an a day oot at Hampden when some baw bag selt is a pie filled wi porridge?

Anywey, yi think ye’ve finally turned the corner into acceptance, when yi get a letter through the door. “Dear Mr Gibson, please come down to Easter Road tomorrow as Mr Petrie would like tae discuss certain matters of a sensitive nature with you”.

Silence – nae sense eh humour that’s they cants problems. Try mentionin the time ye were pished in Gdansk and see how far ye git.

Anywey, ah sais tae her. “Have a hud ma tea yet”. “Oooohooo Gibby”, she sehs, “fine ye ken that tea for three more hours is not. Now put these socks on your fingers as I need to tie your laces”.

“Tea for three more hours is not………… tea for three more hours is not ……..TEA for three more hours is NOT!!!!?? Ah sumtimes wonder whae it is has lost thir executive function. Ah mean ah mibbe talk pish, bit on the whole the words are in the right order”.

Ah considered the options: a) start greetin fir ma maw, and accept the drugs given wi good grace; b) sit in silence, until they pit is in yon hoist an wheel is through tae sit wi Mitchell and Crawford, ma two new great mates, an discuss today’s Sooty show. c) say nowt an bolt the minute her backs turned.

So here ah is, sittin in yon Petrie’s office in the new west stand. “Ah tell yi whit’s wrong wi this place son, it’s facin the pitch!”

Silence, whit the **** is it wi folk the day, two jokes, an a git as much laughs as a Jambo on the internet”.

“Thanks for coming down Mr Gibson”, says this popinjay, twirlin his mistache like he’s Lloyd fahkin George or something. I wonder if there is something you’d like to tell me?”

Jeezo, this is it, thi’ve finally come tae thir senses. Ah take it the last straw has tae hav been yon Hughes, talkin like some kindae big shot, when any cant kin see he could whip flies wi the bogeys comin oot his snout.

“Thanks very much for that Mr. Gibson sehs el Tache, that really has been a fascinating insight into how the club is run. I’m sure Mr Hughes would like to discuss this matter more with you some time, let me just make a note “two, three, five, no ahem pishin aboot with midfielders, yes, yes, very interesting”.

“Trainer, Mr Gibson, I am sure that you have a lot to pass onto your colleagues, but I think you should walk before you run. I was thinking you’d want to establish yourself in post before moving up a rung or two”.

“???????? Eh”

“Well you’ll need to learn a lot of new things, I am sure modern health and safety, not to mention the products and the ovens we cook them in are a bit different to what you are used to”.

The penny droapped, and that wisnae aw. Ah realised that reassuring warmth around ma midriff had nothing to do with the Grouse and Lemonade.

Jist them Daria’s at the door: “Gibby, I really think we should be home going now, it’s been three hours and those pads don’t last forever do they”.

Ah turns tae Petrie, “ah’ll be in touch ya cant, an dinnae think ah’m workin for less than £6.20 an hoor.

Ah might be dilte, bit ah’m no stupid. An another thing, ah’ll no be back till ye git rid o Blackley.